HAPPY IN HELL.

Professor St. George Mivart is a very useful man to the Jesuits. He
plays the jackal to their lion; or, it might be said, the cat to their
monkey. Some time ago he argued that Catholicism and Darwinism were in
the happiest agreement; that the Catholic Church was not committed, like
the Protestant Church, to a cast-iron theory of Inspiration; and that
he was quite prepared to find that all the real Word of God in the Bible
might be printed in a very small book and easily carried in a waistcoat
pocket. That article appeared in the Nineteenth Century. In the
current number of the same review Mr. Mivart has another theological
article on "Happiness in Hell." He says he took advice before writing
it, so he speaks with permission, if not with authority. Such an
article, being a kind of feeler, was better as the work of a layman. If
it did not answer, the Church was not committed; if it did answer, the
Church's professional penmen could follow it up with something more
decisive.

Professor Mivart perceives, like the Bishop of Chester, that
Christianity must alter its teaching with respect to Hell, or lose
its hold on the educated, the thoughtful, and the humane. "Not a few
persons," he says, "have abandoned Christianity on account of this
dogma." The "more highly evolved moral perceptions" of to-day are
"shocked beyond expression at the doctrine that countless multitudes
of mankind will burn for ever in hell fire, out of which there is no
possible redemption." Father Pinamonti's Hell Open to Christians is
stigmatised as "repulsive," and its pictures as "revolting." Yet it
is issued "with authority," and Mr. Mivart falls short of the truth in
admitting it has never "incurred any condemnation." This little fact
seems a barrier to his attempt at proving that the Catholic Church is
not committed to the doctrine of a hell of real fire and everlasting
agony.

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here" wrote Dante over his Inferno,
and Mr. Mivart allows that "the words truly express what was the
almost universal belief of Christians for many centuries." That belief
flourished under the wing of an infallible Church; and now Mr. Mivart, a
member of this same infallible Church, comes forward to declare that
the belief was a mistake. Nevertheless, he argues, the clergy of former
times did right to preach hell hot and strong, stuff it with fire, and
keep it burning for ever. They had coarse and ignorant people to deal
with, and were obliged to use realistic language. Besides, it was
necessary to exaggerate, in order to bring out the infinite contrast
between heaven and hell, the elect and the reprobates, the saved and the
damned. Mr. Mivart maintains, therefore, that the old representation of
hell "has not caused the least practical error or misled anyone by one
jot or tittle"—which is as bold, or, as some would say, as impudent a
statement as could be well conceived.

Briefly stated, Mr. Mivart's contention is that the fire of hell is
figurative. The pains of damnation, even in the case of the worst of
sinners, have not been liberally described by Popes and Councils. "What
is meant by the expression 'hell fire' has never been defined," says
Mr. Mivart. Perhaps not. There are some things which, for practical
purposes, do not need definition, and fire is one of them. Nor is it
greatly to the purpose to say that "Saint Augustine distinctly declares
our ignorance about it." Saint Augustine was not God Almighty. Ample
set-offs to this Father may be found in the pages of Dr. Pusey's What
is of Faith as to Everlasting Punishment? Besides, if fire does not
mean fire, if torment does not mean torment, and everlasting does not
mean everlasting, perhaps hell does not mean hell; in which case, it is
a waste of time to argue about details, when the whole establishment, to
use a Shakespearian epithet, is simply "tropical."

"Some positive suffering," thinks Mr. Mivart, "will never cease for
those who have voluntarily and deliberately cast away from them their
supreme beatitude." Do you want to know what this positive suffering
is? Well, wait till you get there. All in good time. Whatever it is,
the "unbelievers" will get their share of it. The editor of the
Freethinker may look out for a double dose. Professor Huxley will not
escape. He is an aggressive Agnostic; one of those persons who, in the
graceful language of Mivartian civility, do not "possess even a rudiment
of humility or aspiration after goodness." "Surely," exclaims our new
Guide to Hell, "surely if there is a sin which, on merely Theistic
principles, merits the severest pains of hell, it is the authorship of
an irreligious book." Which leads us in turn to exclaim, "Surely, yea
thrice surely, will hell never be wholly abolished or deprived of its
last torture-chamber, while Christians require a painful place for those
who boldly differ from them." Mr. Mivart, it is true, confesses that
"those who are disturbed and distressed by difficulties about hell
include many among the best of mankind." But they must not write
irreligious books on the subject. They must wait, in patience and
meekness, until Mr. Mivart gives them satisfaction.

Let us now summarise Mr. Mivart's position. Universalism, or the final
restitution of all men, he rejects as "utterly irreconcilable with
Catholic doctrine." Those who are saved go to heaven—after various
delays in purgatory—and enjoy the Beatific Vision for ever. Those who
are lost go to hell and remain there for all eternity. They lose the
Beatific Vision, and that is their chief punishment. But hell is not a
really dreadful place—except, of course, for the writers of irreligious
books. It may have its equator, and perhaps its poles; but between them
are vast regions of temperate clime and grateful soil. The inhabitants
are in a kind of harmony with their environment. They are even under a
law of evolution, and "the existence of the damned is one of progress
and gradual amelioration." We suppose it may be said, in the words of
Napoleon, that the road is open to talent; and enterprising "damned
ones" may cry with truth—"Better to reign in hell than serve in
heaven."

Hell must be regarded as a most desirable place. Mr. Mivart knows
all about it, and we have his authority for saying it is "an abode of
happiness transcending all our most vivid anticipations, so that man's
natural capacity for happiness is there gratified to the very utmost."
And this is hell! Well, as the old lady said, who would have thought it?
Verily the brimstone has all turned to treacle.

Curious! is it not? While the Protestants are discussing whether
hell-fire is actual fire, and whether sinners are roasted for
everlasting, or only for eternity, in steps a Catholic and declares
that hell is a first-class sanitarium, far superior to the east-end of
London, better than Bournemouth, and ahead of Naples and Mentone. "Be
happy in heaven," he cries, "and if you won't, why, damn you, be happy
in hell."

But before we leave Mr. Mivart we have a parting word to say. He admits
the comparative novelty of his view of hell. "Our age," he says, "has
developed not only a great regard for human life, but also for the
sufferings of the brute creation." This has led to a moral revolt
against the old doctrine of eternal torment, and the Church is under the
necessity of presenting the idea of hell in a fresh and less revolting
fashion. Precisely so. It is not theology which purifies humanity, but
humanity which purifies theology. Man civilises himself first, and his
gods afterwards, and the priest walks at the tail of the procession.*

* Professor Mivart is a man to be pitied. First of all, his
views on Hell were opposed by Father Clarke, against whom
the hell-reformer defended himself. Last of all, however,
Professor Mivart's articles on this subject were placed upon
the Index of Prohibited Books, which no good Catholic is
allowed to read, except by special permission. Rome had
spoken, and the Professor submitted himself to Holy Mother
Church. In doing so, he destroyed the value of his judgment
on any question whatever, since he submits not to argument,
but to authority.